101 Nights Box Set: Volume Two Page 7

  I’m not sure how she does it, but she manages to put me at ease when I want to remain distant.

  “Okay?” She gazes up at me. “Come back to bed.” The minute the words are out, her face is crimson. Embarrassed, she backs towards the bedroom again.

  I leaning my lower back against the railing behind me, hands on the cool stone.

  “Not how it sounds. I meant, I’m going to sleep, and you should …” Her eyes drop to my bare chest, and she drifts off, staring instead.

  There are times I rescue her like a gentleman should and assure her I understood her meaning. Other moments, like right now, I prefer watching her get flustered and try to backtrack to revise her statement.

  She smacks into the wall, and I nod calmly to her left, indicating where the open door is. Alisha whirls and disappears into the dark room.

  I wait a moment longer for my temper to settle. It’s hard to remember that I barely know her after I’ve spent so long digging into her life and interacting with her online. I shouldn’t care what she thinks about how I do my job. It puzzles me as to why I do, except that deep down, I’m starting to think I like her more than I should. Might be why I’ve gone in person to see her the past few weeks instead of sending one of my team members, why all my electronics have an alert that tells me whenever she hops online, so I can check in on her whenever I want.

  We’ve talked every day, mostly online, for three weeks. It never really struck me that I’m dealing with her differently than anyone else I’ve hacked or researched, but I am in a big way.

  This isn’t good. I can’t believe I didn’t see myself plunging down this slope into emotional territory I work hard to avoid.

  How to put distance between us … I rub my jaw. She clearly thinks all men are like Tony. I could never hit a woman, but I might be able to manipulate her into thinking of me in a similar fashion. Seduce her then walk away. Get her to open up and then crush her.

  The idea feels … ugly.

  Better this than dead like Tracy. The reminder of what happened five years ago solidifies my resolve. It’ll hurt, but it’ll save her life not to be in mine. Returning to the dark room, I allow my eyes to adjust for a moment and close the door to the balcony.

  “Are you there?” I ask.

  “Yeah but on the side opposite the door. You’re better qualified to deal with someone coming to kill us.”

  “I appreciate your vote of confidence,” I reply wryly and lock the balcony door. “Of course, if someone comes in through the balcony, we are less likely to survive.”

  “Stop being an ass, George!” she snaps. “I uncovered your entire stash of handkerchiefs. I’m not afraid to start flushing them.”

  “I get proof of life when we wake up,” I say, unable to help my smile, enjoying the repartee, as usual. Already, I’m failing to remain hard, distant, uninterested.

  “I can arrange that.”

  I’m quiet for a moment, considering what I know about her, recalling how she kissed me. I know she’s interested; she’s too inexperienced to hide it. With some reluctance, I walk mentally through one strategy to push her away. “If I kissed you again, what would you do?” I ask.

  “Good night, George.”

  “You asked me very personal questions about my prostitutes. You can answer this one.”

  There’s silence.

  “You can’t be asleep already,” I say. I go to her side of the bed instead of mine and reach out, feeling her loose, damp hair between my fingers. Working them free gently, I rest my hands on either side of her pillow. “I know you’re awake.”

  “I’d probably freak out,” she answers in a whisper.

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “I don’t know.”

  This will work. Steeling myself to pull her in then break her mentally, I lift myself over her body and rest on my side beside her, one had propping up my head while the other goes to her hair again. Her breathing is faster, and I have a feeling she’s trying to figure out how to react. Knowing what little I do about her history with men, I need to move slowly with her, despite my desire to use sex as a weapon.

  I plant a light kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, waiting for some sign I’m scaring her or worse – she truly wants nothing to do with me and I need a new plan. She touches the side of my face hesitantly, and I capture her mouth with mine.

  God, but she tastes and feels so good! Her plump lips are soft, her mouth so hot. She’s uncertain at first, like she was earlier when I kissed her in the office. It quickly dissipates, replaced by hunger. I brush hair from her face and cup her cheek in one hand, controlling our pace and gently guiding her movements. She yields quickly, her hands going around my neck. I take one and guide it to my chest.

  “You can touch me anywhere.” I pull away to whisper. Helping her trust me, to lower her guard, is only going to make what I do when this is over sting all the harder. She’ll have ample reasons to hate me, which is what I need.

  She nods breathlessly, and I reclaim her mouth, allowing my senses to fill with her flavor, scent and heat. True to my word, I don’t touch her anywhere but her face and neck. Her palms move over my chest and back, and she pauses often to run her fingertips around or between muscles, light enough to tickle. She ventures to my waistband but quickly returns her hands to my chest, where she swirls them around, her touch growing more confident.

  Rolling onto my back, I tug her onto her side and stretch out for her to explore.

  I take one of her hands and move it down my body to my rigid cock, releasing her wrist once she’s reached my arousal.

  Alisha tenses, pulling away from my dick. For a long moment, she doesn’t move.

  “Touch me,” I whisper.

  She rubs my cock lightly a couple of times.

  I take her wrist again and slide both our hands into my boxers, wrapping her hand around my dick.

  “The skin is so soft,” she whispers through broken breathing.

  I remove my hand again and cup her cheeks, pulling her face to mine.

  “Don’t ask. Don’t hesitate. Just touch me,” I whisper against her lips. “And when you’re ready for me to touch you, show me.”

  She kisses me and rubs my dick. I show her how to squeeze me, groaning softly when she does it, then return my hands to her cheeks. Her fingers travel down my cock to my balls, and she fondles them before returning to my dick, where she squeezes the shaft and plays with the aching, swollen head.

  Her hand leaves my dick and travels up my body, around my chest and back down to my straining erection. Every part of me wants to be inside of her right now, but I disengage my emotions, the way I do when I’m on the job, and let her explore instead. Her arousal is clear, the faint scent of need in the air, while her kissing grows more and more passionate. She kisses my face and neck, her hand squeezing my dick harder and harder, before her lips claim mine hungrily.

  Tentatively, she takes one of my hands and guides it to her side before returning to rub my dick through the boxers.

  “You certain?” I ask.

  “I think so.”

  I shift to my side, so we’re lying facing each other. I kiss her and run my palm lightly up her side to her breast and finger the tight bud of her nipple through the t-shirt. Cupping her breast, I knead it then allow my hand to move slowly down her body. I’m alert for any sign of her tensing. She shifts to give me better access to her, and I trail my fingers down her belly to the sacred area between her legs. I nudge her top leg aside with one of my thighs, sliding it between her legs to give me room to reach her pussy.

  I caress the folds of her outer lips before moving to the inner lips and over her clit through the boxers, not yet convinced she’s ready for full contact. Instead of finger fucking her, I rub her from clit to her ass, long, slow strokes. She’s wet for me; the material of the boxers is soon soaked, and she moans against my mouth, tugging harder at my dick.

  I stop the movements of my hand and instead shift my hips, sliding my thigh between
her legs and raising it until it applies pressure to the part of her that aches. My dick presses hard to her lower belly, and her arms go around me while my fingers return to her nipple.

  Kissing her harder, I position her to ride my leg, if she wants, and focus on keeping our movements slow, waiting for the inevitable invitation to fuck her that I know is coming.

  “George,” she whispers in a tight voice. She nips my ear, and she’s pulling me into her body. “Will you touch me?”

  “Yes,” I respond, almost relieved I won’t spend the rest of the night denied her skin. “Tell me when I need to stop.”

  “Okay.”

  I move my hand up her shirt, relishing the heat of her silky, smooth skin.

  “No,” she complains. “There.” She pushes my wrist down, towards her pussy.

  I chuckle and shift to make room to touch her hot, wet cunt. My hand slides down her boxers, and I tickle the sparse curls at the apex of her thighs before sliding one finger between her folds to touch the hard, slick clit.

  “Want me to finger fuck you?” I whisper, kissing her neck.

  “Yesssss,” she hisses.

  I stroke her clit then circle it, and she gasps. “I can do this with my tongue, too.”

  Alisha hesitates.

  “Next time,” I assess, not dissatisfied that I’ve gotten this far with her. Her body is responsive, arching and moving to give me room, her fingernails digging into me in anticipation.

  I slide one finger, then two, into her hot pussy. “You are so tight. So wet.” I bury my fingers in her before return to stroke her g-spot hard. I bury my head in the nape of her neck, breathing in her scent and relishing the warmth of her skin.

  “Feels … incredible,” she says, wonder in her voice.

  Slowly, I circle my thumb around her clit while moving my fingers into her cunt, stroking her g-spot a couple of times, and pulling them free. The rhythmic movement soon drives her mad, the double stimulation and repeated penetration rendering her a hot, wet, pliant, begging mess.

  Her body grows tense, and she shifts against me, trying to quicken my teasing movements, to hurry her growing climax.

  I smile then kiss her hard, pressing her onto her back, devouring her mouth with mine while I finger fuck her closer and closer to oblivion. Her body is moving beneath mine, her mouth demanding.

  My phone lights up on the nightstand, the home security app telling me Elijah is on his way down.

  “George!” she whispers, pulling my attention back to her. She’s arching and gasping.

  I ease up on the pressure, from strokes to tickles, knowing how much more intense it’ll make her orgasm. “Are you ready to come all over my fingers?”

  “Yes!”

  “Kiss me, Alisha.”

  She obeys, her passion an intense, consuming turn on. One that makes me want to strip out of my boxers and fuck her for our four hours of sleep. But I don’t. This is about fucking her over, not fucking her. I concentrate on showing her I’m not a man to fear. In bed, at least.

  Alisha comes hard and fast, her whole body jerking and bucking, and her strangled cry loud in the silence of my room. I continue fucking her with my soaked fingers, and she shudders and cries out a few times, her body wracked by waves of pleasure.

  Panting, she takes my face with her hands and kisses me, long and leisurely, her body trembling beneath mine.

  I shift away and pull my fingers from her pussy and lick them. Her juices are thick and slick, dripping down the back of my hand. I lick the drops hungrily. “You taste so sweet,” I say in an approving growl. “Next time, I will taste you.”

  She tugs my face to hers and rests her forehead against mine, her breathing calming. “What about you?” she asks, a little uncertainly. “Is this when you start beating me?”

  “I’ll never hit you, Alisha,” I whisper, a part of my resolve melting to recall what she’s already been through.

  “But don’t you have to … uh, you know.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re still hard.”

  “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” I slide my hand down her belly, this time over the boxers again, and rub her pussy through the cloth until she’s groaning. “I will lick, suck and drink your sweet cunt next time. And when you’re ready, I’ll fuck you properly, over and over, until you’re too sore and satisfied to leave bed. If you’ve got any ideas you want to try from your pornos, we can do those, too.”

  Her breath catches. She wriggles her hips beneath my hand, a sign she’s ready to come again.

  My phone lights up a second time, a sign Elijah’s on my floor.

  “Quickly, Alisha,” I whisper, burying my face in her hair. “Come all over my hand so I can lick it off again.”

  I slip my fingers into the opening of her boxers and sink them into her tight cunt before running them up the space between pussy and clit. There’s no teasing this time, only a few hard strokes, one circling of the tight bud, and a plunge into her wet pussy once more.

  She shatters, body bucking once more.

  I remove my fingers from her and lick them clean as promised before kissing her lightly.

  Now to start driving a wedge between us.

  “I’ve got to see Elijah.” I tell her.

  “Now?” she whispers in a dazed voice.

  “Now.” I roll off her and move towards the walk-in closet, my dick still swollen. The tip is wet, and I automatically reach for it, aware I only need a few quick strokes to climax.

  “Thank you, George,” Alisha says. “For not being like Tony.”

  “Thank you for saving me the price of a whore. They aren’t cheap,” I reply casually.

  There’s a pause, then, “What?”

  I stop in the doorway to the walk in closet, rubbing my cock and trying to pretend it’s her hand and not mine doing the work.

  “You thought this was something else?” I ask.

  Silence. She’s either shocked or angry. Either one works for me, and I can ignore the ugly feeling hurting her causes.

  Leaning against the doorway, I focus on rubbing one off, intent on my orgasm. Squeezing harder, I quicken my pace, massaging the shaft, and then focus on the head, rubbing it faster and faster until the release breaks.

  I shudder and linger, waiting for my dick to finish pulsing semen before I whip off the boxers and clean it off. I change quickly, lock the door to my computer room, and leave to meet Elijah. I’m not at all satisfied with what happened between Alisha and me, but I’m pretty certain this approach will provide the results I need.

  Chapter Five: Alisha

  As usual, I leapt without thinking.

  I fucking hate men. Hours later, I’m still at a loss as to what the fuck happened between George and me. It started as a kiss and quickly moved to something I didn’t expect to need the way I did. I was blind to anything but him, desperate for a single touch, overwhelmed and clinging to him like my life depended on it.

  And then the magical experience ended with him telling me I was basically a whore before he walked out to see his jackass of a boss. All that talk of defending the weak out of a sense of honor, his pissed off act when he thought I was judging him, the fact he saved my life … it had to be a play at my emotions.

  Who the fuck is this guy? Because he’s not what he seems. He pleasured me with gentleness I never experienced from Tony and unlike anything I expected from the man I nicknamed Super Dick.

  “It really is a terrible nickname, Alisha.” Too accurate, given the size of his cock.

  I glance around quickly to make sure no one heard me. Fortunately, I’m alone in the computer room he tried to lock me out of. Managing my emotions is not a strength, and I’m torn between complete humiliation at how quickly I surrendered to him in bed, and fury that I even let myself get that far with him, when I fully know better.

  George is just … god he drives me insane, more so now than before! Sexy, strong, calm with a fun sense of humor and sometimes, honor. He’s also a remorse
less murderer, a philanderer, a user and a criminal.

  He’s the most incredibly sexy, vexing and intriguing man I’ve ever known. It’s like my ability to think disappears when it comes to him, and my insides start cartwheeling and somersaulting in anticipation of smelling or touching him.

  “Focus!” I almost shout the word. My mind is spinning. My skin still smells like him. Unlike with Tony, I couldn’t muster the urge to scrub off George’s scent. Because I like it. Because it comforts me.

  Because it reminds me he’s a total, sociopathic, murdering dick.

  He’s driving me crazy. “Stop, Alisha!” With a sigh, I stand and pace. “Natalie needs me.”

  The reminder of my friend pierces the chaos of my thoughts, and I stop in front of the frame I’ve had displayed for the past hour on all the monitors.

  Hassan’s partner. That is the key. I’ve watched Natalie’s kidnapping enough times that I no longer cry when I see it, but I’m not yet able to find any clue that will help me track her.

  I’ve hacked the shit out of George’s system, only to discover the Trojan virus I fed it yesterday did a damn good job. He can’t go online, and he’ll need at least one new hard drive. I’m pissed at myself more, knowing I could be further ahead, if one of us had a system capable of working the way it should.

  We let this get personal and in doing so, destroyed each other’s ability to help Natalie. Not that we had any way of knowing this was going to happen. I should have, given my horrible, horrible luck.

  He’s got the rest of his equipment and systems pretty well locked down. I dug up information about Hassan stored on internal databases. The man’s been through some super freaky, spy school type training. But even he has to have a cell phone on him. A GPS tracker on his car. Something! All I need is one tiny, tiny lead, and I can rip this mystery open and hunt him down.